


The More I Hide It

by Callisparrow



Category: Genesis (Band)
Genre: Belly Kink, M/M, Oral Sex, hunger, stomach growls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 13:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5542346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callisparrow/pseuds/Callisparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony didn’t have much to eat this morning and is grumpy(er than usual), but Mike takes the opportunity for something he always wanted to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The More I Hide It

“Ugh. Damn, not again.”

Tony grumbled under his breath as he ran up the stairs full speed, this time to retrieve his forgotten keys. His mind was unusually chaotic this morning and seemed to be in thousand places at once. His latest work on the album and general stress of managing so many things in the studio had made him scatterbrained about everything else, and he hated it. Well, not the music itself, obviously. But everything else that went along with the enjoyable part of writing it; the promotion, the interviews, the tour details. It was all just a bit much.

He shook his head and hastily shoved his keys and wallet into his pockets. He stopped for a second to adjust his belt. Was it his imagination, or were these jeans fitting more snugly than they did before? He tugged at the waistband, frowning at his reflection in the mirror.

Perhaps not.

On his way out the door he remembered that he hadn't had any breakfast, but at the moment he was much too nervous and keyed-up to think about food. His appetite this week hadn't been very good at all anyway, and there were so many other things that needed doing, and he was so late...

...and it was raining again. Terrific.

Cursing under his breath, Tony trotted down the driveway in a vain attempt to avoid the downpour and fired up the car, his clothes and hair dripping wet. As he backed out and drove away down the gravel road, he couldn't help slipping a thumb behind the waistband of his jeans again, trying to loosen the fit. There was no doubt about it this time, these trousers were definitely growing snug.

Maybe it was just as well he'd skipped breakfast today.

 

* * *

 

“Tony? What the bloody hell happened to you?”

Mike stared at the sight of his soggy friend, who was looking decidedly unhappy as he dripped rainwater into the foyer carpet.

Tony frowned and wrung the water out of his shirt. “I decided to go swimming,” he said evenly. “What else do you think happened?”

Mike couldn't help but laugh. “Didn't even bring a coat?”

“No time,” Tony replied curtly. He combed his fingers through his damp hair, irritated. The moisture made it curl even more than it usually did, and no doubt it would soon begin to tangle very badly. “I was running very late.”

“You're still late,” Mike pointed out. “Never mind. We didn't even get started yet, either. Let me get you a towel or something.”

“I can get it myself, thanks,” Tony protested, but Mike had already marched out of the room. He returned a minute later with a clean, dry bath towel.

“Here you are,” Mike said, and threw the towel over Tony's head. He started to rub his hair dry.

“Mike—heheh—stop that, give it to me.” Tony made a grab for the towel but Mike drew him into a secure warm hug instead.

Tony said nothing but allowed himself to relax just a little in Mike's arms, secretly pleased. He had noticed that Mike had been unusually attentive lately. Neither had said anything about it, but the lingering glances, the soft touches and loving squeezes when he thought no one was looking, seemed a lot more frequent. Was Mike somehow more amorous than usual? Was he trying to tell him something? Mike didn't always say what was on his mind but Tony couldn't exactly blame him. Inner feelings, the very deepest kind, were hard to process, and after so many years of conditioning in the art of hiding feelings, it was still difficult to share. Phil always made emotions look so easy. How on earth did he manage it?

“So why haven't you started yet?” Tony asked as Mike released him and went to the kitchen to fetch a fresh cup of tea.

“Usual bollocks. Phil's going to be late as well, he's having car trouble.”

“Oh, well, pffft. Brilliant. I suppose I shouldn't have worried so much, then,” Tony laughed nervously. “I mean if everyone else is allowed to be late today.”

“Right,” said Mike. “Relax, have some tea.”

They sat together on the couch for the next half-hour or so, sipping tea and listening to the calm sound of the drizzling rain against the window. Even if Tony's shirt was still a bit wet, he felt considerably better just being close to Mike, and feeling the hot tea warm up his insides. He rested against Mike's neck and accepted his soft little kisses against his ear, and the pleasant tingle of his long fingers combing his damp hair.

There wasn't time for anything more, however, as they heard approaching footsteps at the front door and Phil made his appearance at last.

“Hi Mike!” he exclaimed, shaking out his umbrella. “Nasty, innit? Listen, Hugh's on his way, we're almost ready now. Hi, Tony!” Phil's bright voice was a welcome ray of sunshine in this gloomy day. “Good to see ya. Did you get your tea? Great!” He bounced down the stairs to the recording booth without even waiting for a reply.

Tony couldn't help smiling at his enthusiasm. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad today after all. Might be even better if I could eat, he thought, but unfortunately that would have to wait.

 

* * *

 

“Tony?” Phil spoke into his headset from behind the recording booth window. “There's a funny sound coming through this channel and I can't isolate it.”

Tony's ears burned under his headphones. It was already mid-afternoon and approaching the lunch hour, something his empty stomach was not letting him forget. He had ignored hunger for most of the morning, being too absorbed in drafting more lyrics, and had been running mostly on cups of strong tea without much thought. Even when he took his seat behind the keyboards to record, he was feeling oddly energetic and thought he might get away with not eating for another hour or two, but apparently he would have no such luck today.

“What sort of noise, Phil?” Tony spoke into his microphone, though he was fully aware of the answer. How could the mic be sensitive enough to pick up his stomach growls? It was simply unfair. He crossed his arms and glowered in the direction of the recording booth, trying not to sound half as irritated as he felt.

“Well I dunno, really. Sort of a grumble. It's not your stomach, is it?” Phil joked.

Tony didn't answer.

“Is that what it is, then? Haha, everything all right?” Phil's voice crackled over his headphones again.

“Umm. No. I mean yeah, it's—”

He tensed as his stomach rumbled even louder than before. Fuck, this wasn't happening. It couldn't be. He shut his eyes and willed his stomach to be quiet, to no avail.

“Yeah, there it is again. You hear that?” Phil asked.

Tony had a sudden burning desire to fade quietly out of existence. He imagined his face was turning any number of shades of red, but there wasn't anything he could do. He cleared his throat and took a moment to gather his dignity.

“Maybe it's just... erm, give me a second...” At this moment he was almost willing to take apart the entire keyboard setup just to pretend the sound was some mechanical glitch and not his grumbling stomach. But he saw Phil eyeing him strangely through the glass window, and knew with a sinking feeling that the jig was up when he heard Mike's deep laughter behind him:

“It is your stomach, you know!”

Tony could only close his eyes, supremely embarrassed, as he waited for his two friends to stop laughing.

“Yes, well I'm sorry,” Tony hissed through his teeth.

“Aw, Tony, why didn't you say something before?” Phil's voice came through his speakers again. “See, we can't tell if you're just grumpy from hunger or not, 'cuz you're always that way.” He giggled as Tony shot him an icy death glare.

“We'll break for lunch, how's that?” Mike said, standing up to stretch. “Order a takeaway?”

“With extra noodles,” Phil added, giving them the thumbs-up sign from the booth.

Tony sighed. “Yes,” he said, as his stomach grumbled in agreement. “That would be fine.”

 

* * *

 

About an hour and a very large quantity of Chinese food later, Tony wondered if perhaps he'd gone a little overboard on the shrimp-fried noodles. He hiccuped and put a hand on his overfull stomach.

“Better?” Phil asked, looking similarly full and content.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “I think so.” At least hunger was no longer one of his problems.

“Good. Well, see you in a bit,” Phil said. He stood up from the table and mischievously gave Tony's stomach a poke as he left the room. “And no more ruining the takes!”

“Ha! I'll try,” laughed Tony. He took a second to breathe and was about to get up and follow after him, but he noticed that Mike was watching him with a peculiar intensity.

“Something wrong?” Tony asked.

“No, nothing. It's just...” Mike hesitated. “I just like to see you this way, you know.”

“Like what? Like this? Too full to move?” Tony laughed, thinking that Mike was kidding him again, but he stopped as Mike reached out and brushed his fingers very lightly over his taut stomach, tracing teasing little circles around his bellybutton. Tony sighed deeply and relaxed a little more. That did feel good. Surprisingly so. He felt his stomach turn over with a contented gurgle, as if responding to Mike's gentle touch, and he blushed.

“Yeah,” Mike said. “I... even like that sound, too.”

“Why?” asked Tony, now thoroughly puzzled.

“I dunno. Just nice, I guess.” Mike said. He seemed to be in a slight trance, with the same kind of sleepy focus he always had whenever he got high. “It's relaxing and... I guess I always thought you were a bit too thin, anyway.”

“Too thin?” Tony tried to sound skeptical but that was difficult with the growing feelings of arousal, and the blood drawing lower in him. His words emerged more like a longing sigh. “Hmm. That's what your mother always said. She was always trying to feed us.”

“Yeah,” Mike replied low. “I guess I'm the same, now. I still don't understand it but... I don't know. There's something satisfying about this. About filling you up and—” Now it was Mike's turn to blush, as if realizing he had already said far too much. He struggled with the right words as they tumbled out too quickly. “And I think about you sometimes, if you were, um, a little bit... plumper, you know.”

“You want me to be fat, then?” Tony said, smiling incredulously.

Mike felt his cheeks flush very hot and he immediately regretted every foolish thing he had said, but it was too late. He shook his head emphatically. “No! That is—not if you don't want to.”

He reckoned Tony would probably never gain very much weight even if he tried. He'd always been such a skinny lad, and brimming with a kind of nervous stress that burned away calories faster than he could eat. But to see him like this, so full and relaxed right after a meal... Mike's breathing deepened as he patted Tony's little rounded belly. Damned if he didn't look so good this way.

Tony didn't say anything for a while, quietly enjoying the belly rub a little more than he intended to. He arched his back and stretched, deliberately pushing his stomach out just to tease Mike, and took the time to consider a reply.

“Can we lie down for a second?” he finally asked.

“Of course.” Mike was fairly smoldering with eagerness as they moved to a more comfortable spot on the couch.

“If I did eat more, I would have to buy new clothes,” Tony continued with a pout, as if it were the very worst thing that could happen. “Matter of fact, I noticed these are already getting tight. Was this your plan all along?”

“Maybe,” said Mike, smirking. He hooked a finger into the snug waistband of Tony's jeans. “I'm disappointed you didn't catch on sooner.”

“Are you like this with Phil, too?”

“Oh always.” Mike moved lower, nuzzling into Tony's rounded stomach for a kiss. “Only I never have to encourage Phil to eat. He's very willing but it isn't very challenging, you see.”

At first Tony laughed; his tummy was a sensitive, soft place and the sensation from Mike's beard was very ticklish. But then as Mike began to lick teasingly, moving lower on his stomach, Tony let out a low sound of pleasure and shivered. He felt Mike's fingers tugging down at his belt, unbuttoning the front of his trousers.

“Just a quick one,” Mike was saying, “right now.”

“Yes,” Tony sighed. He thrust his hips up to allow Mike draw his trousers down. Looking at himself from this angle was a bit shocking—Christ, he thought, did I really eat that much? His stomach looked and felt so bloated that for a second he was quite ashamed, and he covered up the vulnerable curve of his belly with his hands. But Mike seemed completely taken by it. He reached up to gently push Tony's hands aside and stroke his stomach, waiting for the tension to melt out of him completely.

“Mmm,” Tony murmured, “why—”

“Shh. It's all right,” Mike reassured him. He freed Tony's cock from the last restraints of his trousers and began to suck him. For several minutes the only sound was the increasing rhythm of their breathing and Tony's quiet moans as he gave himself up to the pleasure of Mike's lips and tongue. God, he already felt ready to release. He tried to hold on and keep himself from finishing so quick, but Mike seemed determined to make him come and only sucked faster. It wasn't long before Tony felt the coil of tension in his loins and he began to shake. Breathing fast, his mouth open in surprise, he arched against Mike and held on tight to his hair, trembling as he came until he had given everything down Mike's throat.

“Ahh...” Tony lay still for some moments in a daze. When he came to his senses again Mike was already cleaning up a bit and tucking him back into his jeans, smiling with accomplishment.

“Was that good?” he asked.

“Ah, yeah,” Tony breathed. “Of course. You're always good.”

Mike grinned. “So. Ready to get back to work?”

“Right, work. Oh goodness...” He felt slightly dizzy when he sat up. “Ah... just give me a minute.”

“Sure.” Mike lay down beside him again and rested one ear against his stomach. “Just don't fall asleep.”

“Ha. Same for you.” He held Mike close and stroked his hair, scratching the back of his neck. They lay very quietly, neither one in any real hurry to get up, although they knew Phil would be calling after them in a short while. After their work was done for the day, he could return Mike's favor, and perhaps convince Phil to join them...

Tony's free hand wandered slowly up the front of Mike's buttoned shirt, which had ridden up slightly to expose his flat stomach. He massaged him very softly with his fingertips and thought about all the things Mike had just told him, about wanting to see him eat more, and gain weight. And then he started to wonder if Mike had ever considered putting a little more weight on his own gangly frame...

After all, he thought, and rubbed his palm gently across Mike's tummy, imagining if it was fuller, a bit softer. Two could play at this game.


End file.
